Burning Desire
by RedheadScorpion
Summary: Sookie gets the surprise of her life when her usual jogging session in the morning turns into an act of goodwill in helping to assist a naked and hunky burning man, by the name of Eric Northman, who has some dark secrets of his own. Before vampires have come out of the coffin. AU. Should I continue this?


**_True Blood and it's characters belong to their rightful owners. I own nothing and am just doing this out of enjoyment. I don't know if this is anything I should continue on, but lets just say after watching the last episode of the season it inspired me. Hope you enjoy it and feel free to let me know if it's something I should continue on._**

**_Be warned: It's a silly fic lol._**

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**_Burning Desire_**

I wasn't necessarily overweight, but I made it a habit to jog and take brisk walks early in the morning before I started my shifts as a barmaid at Merlotte's. I wasn't one of those fitness fanatics overly concerned about their weight or their stamina; I just enjoyed how much it seemed to take the stress off me and clear my head.

There was always a place where I made it a habit to take vigorous walks in, and it was in the area behind the house where I had lived in with my Grandmother for a good twenty-three years. My much-adapted home lies in a clearing in the middle of some woods off Hummingbird Road, outside of the small town of Bon Temps. There isn't exactly a smooth path to walk through; It's mainly dense grass and trees, but I didn't mind it. In a sense, it left me feeling closer to nature.

I had learned the track I took daily by heart. If I walked far enough, there was little stream, and I always made it my personal mission to reach that stream and listen to the noises of nature early in the mornings. This morning was no different. I slipped into my pair of well-worn Nikes, a baggy sports T-shirt that used to belong to my brother Jason when he was going through his football phase in high-school, and some tight track pants. I said goodbye to my Grandmother, who had only just awoken, told her my plans to walk behind the area of the house, and then off I went.

It felt good putting my muscles to use and even just a few minutes into walking left me feeling more energized and positive about where my life was now at. I never brought a cell phone with me on my walks, or an Ipod or anything, like I know people usually like to do. I just felt it was always better and more relaxing to have no distractions aside from what was directly in front you and the natural sounds of birds in the trees and the rustling of leaves underneath the soles of your shoes as you trampled all over them in your haste.

I got to brooding, as I usually did, when I pushed myself into making my shins move faster, stepping over thin logs and branches. My life wasn't all that exiting for a twenty-three year old. I didn't have a boyfriend. I didn't go out partying on my days off, and do anything bad and dangerous, like mountain-climbing or taking drugs. The only excitement that made-up my days was pretty much heading into work and listening into people's thoughts as a telepathic.

Sometimes it did get physically draining, not being able to help hearing what people were thinking. Only I had been living that way for so long that I kind of got used to it. At least here stuck far out in the woods with nobody around, I didn't have to put up with it. Plus, all the animals you naturally got in here; Raccoons and deer's, you couldn't hear their thoughts.

Out here was pretty much the most silent place in the world for me, which I thought was partly why I enjoyed my daily walks and jogs so much. By the time I finally reached the small stream, I was sweating like a hog and panting for breath. Sucking in a deep breath, I rested my hands against my knees and bowed my head, trying to get more air into my lungs.

I know some people felt funny about hearing themselves breathe, but I didn't mind it so much. It was almost a lovely constant reminder of how alive I was.

Just as I swiped my sweaty palms over my track pants and was about to turn back, I heard a noise to the left of me behind a log. I froze, tensing up. I figured it was probably a wild animal, only the sound repeated itself and told me otherwise.

It came from a human being, I thought. Somebody made a faint grunting noise that was disturbing. A grunt or moan; one or the other. Whether it was because someone was seriously in pain or not, I couldn't be sure. But all I knew was that this usually never happened on my daily hikes.

The noise came again and I raised my head, trying to estimate the direction it had actually come from. It sounded quite close by, and when I listened extra carefully, it occurred to me that the noise was _most definitely_ issuing from a man's throat. It was in times like these that I wished I had actually thought of bringing my cell phone with me, whether or not there would be a good enough signal. If this person was in pain, how could I possibly assist them to the hospital in time enough?

I held my breath, listening some more.

And then the noise happened again. Someone was definitely in trouble, and it definitely sounded as if it was a noise a man was making.

I was conflicted, and I bit down on my lip, hard, wondering what I was going to do. _What was I supposed to do, if I didn't have a cell phone on me to properly help the person out?_

"Fuck me," the man groaned exhaustedly. I wasn't sure whether he meant that literally, but I sure hoped he hadn't.

Still, I wasn't sure what to do, and I hesitated. Should I help this man out, or not? Should I just ignore the poor fellow and pretend I never heard him? After a few seconds wondering, I decided it was possibly the most callous thing of me to do, in ignoring somebody when they were potentially hurt. I wasn't saying I'm Goodhearted Glenda or anything like that, but helping someone in need was pretty up there on my To-Do list. Getting a grip on myself, I turned and followed the noises the man was making. I stepped over a log and then, at last, I found where the noises were issuing from.

My first suspicions had been right: It was a man, and he was naked as a jaybird covered in dirt and half hidden under a canopy of branches. I smelled smoke, and I was almost certain I thought I saw grey wafts rising from his arms and legs.

Biting down on my lip again, I began approaching him cautiously, because although naked and tragic, I still wasn't sure whether he was harmless or not. For all I knew, he could be a serial rapist just conning me. I inched closer, trying to decipher his face through all the branches. It wasn't easy and he was keeping himself well concealed.

"Ah, hey there," I called to him slowly. "Do you need some help?" Even as I said it, I knew it was a pretty ridiculous thing to ask, because it was apparent _he did_ need help. He was hurting, and the sounds he was making told me as much. "What are you doing there in them bushes? Are you hiding from something?"

"Burning," he muttered weakly. "It's... it's burning."

"What is?" I asked, unhelpful as it was. "Do you need my help?"

Once I finally reached the pile of branches and leaves he was stuck under, I got a major distraction. Most of him might have been covered, but a certain particular part of him wasn't. He was certainly a man, no doubts about it, if his genitals were anything to go by. Not that I was looking too closely, of course. I wasn't a pervert by any stretch of the imagination.

"Would you like me to help you?" I asked, kneeling down beside the pile of branches where I was assuming his face was. "I could try helping you get out of these piles of branches you're stuck under?"

"Please," he whispered desperately in a raspy voice, and I didn't need to be told twice.

With urgency, I got to work with picking branches off his arms and legs, keeping my eyes resolutely anywhere but on his penis. It was the least I could do.

"How long have you been stuck here?"

"A couple of days," he breathed, in a slow, drained voice. "It was burning me."

There he went, about that mysterious burning again.

"What was burning you?" I asked, with sheer concern.

"The sunlight," he explained quietly. "It was... burning my flesh. I could feel it."

_Ooo-kay._ I hadn't heard of sunlight burning anybody's flesh before. Maybe he was suffering from heat-stroke or dehydration?

Finally succeeding in getting the last of the branches off his body, I looked him over sadly. Boy, he was the most pitiful thing I had ever seen in my entire life! His skin was a deep red in patches and some of it looked as if it had pus coming out of it. He even had welts all over his cheek and forehead. It was heartbreaking.

"You really weren't kidding, huh?" I said sympathetically. "I don't think I've ever seen somebody look so sunburned before! No wonder, you must have been stuck here like this for days!"

Much to my horror, I realized this wasn't the end of his burning. Smoke started hissing off his skin in waves, and he started with those terrible, anguished noises again. I realized I had to get him inside- _and fast!_

"Come on," I said desperately, taking hold of his arm and pulling him up. He was as heavy as a sack of potatoes, but fortunately for me, he helped me in doing his own bit. He managed to get himself upright on his feet, and then he was stumbling behind me, allowing me to pull him along and take the lead. "I'll take you inside where you're out of the sun, alright? Hopefully it'll help with your sunburns!"

I winced when I looked down at his feet quickly, seeing how he wasn't even wearing any shoes and how bloody and filthy his toes looked. Poor darling.

"Here we go," I said encouragingly. "My house is just down here. It won't take too long to get inside." He said not a single word to me in response; He just dutifully let me lead him towards Gran's house without protest. I supposed he realized just how imperative it was that he got out of the sun himself, before he burned even more. "What's your name?" I asked him, hoping to distract him from the pain he must have been feeling.

"Northman," he said.

"Northman?" I repeated, stifling down a bewildered laugh. "_Northman._ What kind of name is that?"

"Ouch," he sighed miserably. It just made my heart hurt for him all over again.

"Yes, I know," I said pitifully. "You must be hurting real badly, but we've almost reached my Grandmother's house now. There will be shade in the house from the sun and Gran has some soothing lotion that will fix up your burns a treat."

We were moving faster, more urgently, which was good. It couldn't be helped whether it was hurting him or not, how fast we were moving. It was important we got him inside as quickly as possible, and the smoke wasn't clearing from his skin just yet.

"God, is this always how it is for you whenever you head out into the sun?" I asked, shocked. I couldn't begin to imagine how it must be for him. He must have a deadly serious sun-allergy.

"Usually, I try to avoid it, but I couldn't this time." His voice was amazingly deep and raspy. I thought the pain had something to do with it, though.

"And how did you come to be in my woods, Northman?"

"_Your_ woods?"

"Well, yeah... It's pretty much our land here."

"Good question." I figured he was getting weaker and weaker by the minute, because he slipped an arm around my shoulder, leaning into me. He was so heavy I very nearly took a stumble to the ground. But to my relief, I saw the shape of my Grandmother's house through the opening of the woods, and I decided I couldn't exactly fault the guy for making it harder on me. He couldn't help it. He was evidently getting weaker and weaker by the minute.

"We're here almost," I informed him. "Oh, _thank Jesus_, we're here!"

I was relieved when we finally got to the steps of the front porch, only helping him climb them was an ordeal within itself. I noticed my companion Northman tense up as we staggered towards the front door, but I couldn't be sure why. Maybe he was just nervous about meeting people he didn't know?

I got him inside, and Gran must have heard the loud noise we were making, because she bustled out into the hallway to find out what all the ruckus was about. Her eyes widened when she saw how naked my companion was, and she went all flustered, but after a moment of getting her bearings straight, she helped me get him into a chair in the kitchen. She could see how serious this situation was. There was no time for lecturing on the importance of wearing clothes in public.

"Heavens," Gran exclaimed, as she looked him over anxiously. "What has happened here?"

"Gran, he's been burned," I told her urgently. "I found him hidden under some branches and leaves, naked. How are we meant to deal with this?" I was no doctor after all. I didn't know what you were supposed to do to help a person who was suffering from severe burns. I was hopeless with all that; I'm just a barmaid, not a girl with a degree in first aid.

I was mostly concerned over the seriousness of the welts on his forehead and around his cheek area, but my concerns diminished some when I took in that smoke wasn't rising from his skin any longer. That was a relief within itself. Gran hurried into another room to get supplies, while I examined his face gently. I put my hand gently on his forehead, trying to estimate how bad the wound on his forehead was. He made a terrible noise, and I gasped at the thought of causing him anymore harm all due to my probing and poking. Unfortunately for me, my gasp made me inhale in some smoke by accident, and he didn't smell very good. He smelt almost like overcooked meat. It was so strange. He sure smelt very unusual; I don't believe I had ever known a man to smell like that before.

I'm no expert, but I thought his burns looked only superficial, just reaching the outer layers of his skin. I had heard about it once on a late night television programme. I had also heard that somebody suffering from burns with clothes on was a difficult bitch to deal with, so internally I thanked the heavens above that he wasn't wearing anything on him in the first place. He had no wedding ring or any jewellery so that spared anything from getting glued to his skin fortunately.

"How bad it is hurting?" I asked him worriedly, checking in on him.

"Better. Tons better now that I'm inside."

"Well, that's good," I breathed in relief. I met his eyes and found he was scrutinizing me closely, to my puzzlement. His eyes were a lovely deep blue in colour, and they stared at me intensely. I wasn't sure what that meant. "Are you, um, feeling alright in the head?" I asked, as gently as possible. "Are you feeling in deep shock or anything like that? Just let me know if you're about to pass out, alright?"

He opened his mouth, about ready to say something in response, only Gran was rudely barging in with a bucket of cold water and some towels.

"Try this, honey," she directed me, dunking a towel in the water, then wringing it out. "Apply it gently to his burns and it should soothe him up some good."

I accepted the towel and did what she said, at once. I tried to be careful, only it didn't seem to make much difference to Northman. He kept hissing through his teeth and a few times he even took the Lord's name in vain, which I could tell Gran wasn't too pleased about. But she let it all slide on by, considering how painful it was for him. It was only fair.

I applied the cool towel to his forehead at where the worst-looking welt was, and I heard him give out a ragged sigh in relief. I smiled to myself, happy to at least help ease some of his pain. A few times, I shot his face several fleeting glances, finding his eyes planted on the side of my throat. I wasn't too sure what that meant, but he seemed real fixated by it.

"Is it feeling a bit better now, Northman?"

He mustn't have heard me, because he was too distracted by ogling my neck for anything to register. His teeth were clenching down on the tip of his tongue and he was lucky he wasn't drooling.

I didn't want to be rude, so I made sure I repeated myself gently. "Northman, I asked if it's feeling a bit better on you?"

It seemed to snap him out of it, good and well. His eyes flitted up to mine, and he stared at me blankly. "I beg your pardon? What the fuck did you just say to me?"

I heard Gran make a disapproving noise over his cursing, but I pretended not to hear her.

"Are you feeling better now?" I asked, slowly and gently. It took all I had not to go and lose my patience with him.

"Y-yes," he finally answered. "Heaps fucking better."

_Geeze Louise. Again with the curse words._ He was lucky Gran didn't take soap to his mouth.

"Well, good." I lifted the cloth slowly away from his forehead, checking to see how the burn was doing. Um, okay then. It was completely... gone. What?

I drew back in shock, hissing through my teeth. It healed. There was just... clear skin. Now how was that possible? Okay, then. What the hell was up with this guy?

"Gran," I called unevenly, turning to face her. She was waiting by the doorway expectantly, her hands flat on her stomach, coiled up in nerves for the fellow. "Would you mind giving me a bit of privacy for a moment here?"

"Oh, okay," she laughed, shooting me a strange look of confusion. I couldn't blame her for being confused, really. "I'll be out in the hallway. You just call to me if you think calling the ambulance is the best thing to do, you hear?"

"I will, Gran," I assured her.

Once she was gone, I turned back to look at the strange man, whose name was Northman. He was a lot closer than I anticipated, leaning up in the chair so that his nose was real close to me. How funny. I hadn't caught the movement at all. His eyes were on my neck again, wide and intent. Since he didn't seem all that worried about making me feel nervous, I decided to give him a taste of his own medicine. Dropping the towel in the bucket, I stepped a bit closer so that my legs were on each side of where his knees were, squatting down over him, and I brought my hands up to cup his face in them, eyeing him intently. His eyes closed momentarily at my touch and I heard him inhale sharply through his teeth. He obviously wasn't expecting it. It wasn't something I ordinarily did, but I felt keen on listening into him. I wanted to know what his deal was, why he was so strange, and how he seemed to heal with the burn on his forehead so quickly. His eyes rose to meet mine, and I peered in them deeply, opening up my mind to him.

And I heard... absolutely nothing coming from him.

It was like he had a different wavelength that I couldn't reach into, a wavelength that wasn't receptive to me.

I found I could not hear an ounce of this Northman's thoughts. It was pure heaven, but also scary.

He was so still and rigid in the chair, staring back into my eyes. I should have been able to read him... only I couldn't. And yet why couldn't I? What the fuck was wrong with him? Didn't he think at all?

I didn't know how long I was staring at him for, holding his face in my hands, but I was slowly brought into awareness when he spoke at me softly.

"Uh, kind lady?" he said uncomfortably, raising his eyebrows at me, and I removed my hands quickly.

"Yes, Northman?" Trying to appear as if nothing was wrong, I turned away and reached down for the towel in the bucket again.

"What is your name?"

"Oh! Excuse me for not introducing myself!" I swallowed hard and laughed nervously. "My name is Sookie, Northman." I swallowed again and my hands shook as I wrung water out from the towel. "Sookie Stackhouse, in fact. I'm just Sookie. Sookie's my name. And your name is Northman."

"Eric," he muttered quietly.

"Pardon me?"

"Eric," he repeated, a little more firmly through his teeth. "My name is actually Eric. Northman is my last name. I'm Eric Northman."

"Oh." Wasn't I stupid, then? Of course, I did find the name Northman ridiculous for a man. Getting ready to apply the damp towel to his skin again, I was suddenly lost and hopeless with nowhere to go. Somehow, during our conversation and me being weird, he had healed up nicely of all his burns. Now his skin looked just fine, with no scold marks or anything to show for it.

My job was done, before I even had properly started it. Wasn't he weird? He just healed his own skin up. How can somebody do something like that?

I tossed the towel back into the bucket, not without some regret. It felt good helping somebody, but as it turned out, he was perfectly capable of helping himself.

There was still his feet, though. So, putting myself to good use, I plopped down on my knees and took one of his feet in my hands, inspecting it curiously. There was some blood here and there, only I couldn't find the cause of it at all. His skin didn't feel broken when I brushed my fingertips along his ankle and the backs of his toes.

"That's odd," I muttered under my breath.

"What is?" he asked confusedly.

"Well, you've got blood on your feet, but you've got no scratches, as far as I can see."

I tilted my head up to look at him, finding him closer to me than I was expecting, exactly as before. He had already leaned down, so his face was close to the side of my neck. I thought I heard him inhale me in, but I might have been mistaken. When I turned my head a bit to look at him, surely enough his eyes were fixated on my neck again with a look I couldn't figure out.

"You hungry?" I asked.

"What?"

"I said, _are_ you_ hungry_?"

"Yes," he admitted, in a funny strangled voice. He leaned in, and then his lips touched my neck, just at the base of throat. I made a strange squeaking noise in shock. This most certainly wasn't what I was expecting to happen. Truth be told, I never expected to find a man in need of help on my daily hike either. His lips were fairly cold, and I couldn't help the shudder that rippled through me due to it. I could feel him breathing shallowly all over my skin, as his lips parted. Then I felt his front teeth scrape against my skin, and I had to move away, I just had to.

I drew back on my knees, putting a decent amount of space between us; A space that made me feel somehow instantly safer and content.

I could feel that there was something peculiar about this man. What happened just then only confirmed it and made my suspicions rise. Not being able to hear his thoughts was one thing; but the way he seemed to heal up so quickly and the way he constantly stared at my neck was another issue altogether. What made him so different?

"You never did tell me how you came to be in the woods, stuck under branches?" I said, reminding him meaningfully. I felt I was deserving of an explanation, wasn't I? Out of my own good well, I let a stranger into my house, probably against better judgment. But it had seemed the right thing to do at the time, and I couldn't bring myself to regret it. "How is it possible that you can heal so quickly?" I blurted out, rising to my feet. I stepped back a few paces, watching him warily as he sat.

"Maybe it's magic?" he said, in a way that sounded as if he was taunting me. I thought he was teasing me and deliberately avoiding my question.

"Answer me," I demanded nervously. "What are you? You're not like any other average man, are you?"

"No, I most certainly am not," he said proudly.

He stood from the chair, rising to his full height.

I could feel my cheeks turning red as I warned myself against looking at anywhere else but his face. He was naked, and he didn't look too bad either. It was hard. He was built like a fucking God. Hell, he was... nicely sized where it counts, too. It wasn't like he was ashamed to be naked and let me see him or anything like that.

"Would you be so kind as to let me stay here?"

I wasn't sure I heard him properly. It was hard to listen, when he was giving me a full-frontal. "What?"

He sighed loudly and rolled his eyes at me. "I said, would you mind if I stayed here?"

"Why should I let you when you're refusing to give me answers?" I challenged. "For all I know, you could be some perverted rapist, or a... weird guy with a fetish for getting naked."

"I can assure you that I am not either of those things, although I am not ashamed to get naked every once in a while." He extended an arm out, pointing towards the window. "But as you just saw, the sun and I aren't very compatible."

"And _why_ is that?"

"Unless you want me crisping up like bacon again, I urge you to allow me to stay here until sundown. Do you have a bed by any chance?"

_Did I have a bed? What kind of question was that?_

"I do have a bed, yes," I answered stiffly. "But _don't you dare_ think we're getting into bed together. My kindness doesn't extend that far."

In a way that gave me the shivers all over, he let his gaze fall to my Nikes, and then his eyes travelled slowly up, taking in my track pants and my baggy T-shirt. He _was so_ envisioning me naked, I could just tell.

"As much as it disappoints me that we will not be getting into your bed together, I can live with that. Now, is that a yes or not to your bed?"

I was regretting my decision of letting him into the house more and more by the second. This guy was one of a kind, and I didn't even know what his deal was. Him asking to use my bed at this hour wasn't the most easiest thing to understand, but I wasn't that rude not to let him. Besides I had already gotten this far. Why deny him now?


End file.
